The Junior (College Years 3)

I tamp down the jealousy rising in me. He’d never have a chance. Gracie eats douchebags like him for breakfast. “Again, I can’t fuck where I eat. I should find a tourist.”

“There are some babes hanging around here this weekend,” Aidan says with a grin. “Take a break. Go up to the restaurant. I’m sure you’ll find a couple of girls who are interested in whatever you’re putting down.”

This kid talks like an idiot. He reminds me of myself. “You don’t mind if I take my break right now?”

“Nah. Go for it,” Aidan says. “We’ve got this handled.”

It’s fairly quiet at the moment. The calm before the storm. Soon a bunch of boats will be brought back in for the night. And still others will launch out into the water, ready for the fireworks show. At seven there will be a boat parade and people will shout and cheer for the most patriotically decorated boat. It’s a ritual that happens every single year without fail.

“I’ll be back,” I tell Aidan as I walk away from him.

I pass by the dock office, see Gracie standing in the open window chatting with customers about what time the fireworks are starting tonight. Don’t know how many times I’ve heard that conversation today, but I’m sure she’s sick of talking about it. I try to catch her eye, but it’s like she refuses to look at me and so I stalk my way up the sidewalk that leads to the dock, cross the road and head into the restaurant by way of the general store.

All the girls who work inside call my name in greeting when I enter, waving and smiling like they’re actually glad to see me, unlike another girl I know. I bask in their adoration, not caring if they mean it or not. I need their compliments and enthusiasm because I can’t remember the last time I had a girl actually excited to see me.

I make random conversation while one of them scoops up an ice cream for me, coffee flavored in a sugar cone. After I pay, I head outside and sit at one of the picnic tables on the patio, scrolling through my phone, already bored out of my mind.

Lifting my head, my gaze goes to the dock, where Gracie is currently standing and chatting with Aidan. She’s laughing at whatever he says, the sun glinting off her hair, making it shine.

Making her shine.

My chest aches from watching her and I hate that she looks so happy with someone else while all she can manage to do is scowl at me. How did I fuck this up so badly? Why is she so angry at me? I thought we were doing okay. I thought we were being real with each other.

Guess we can’t do that after all. It sends everything to shit.

There are tourists everywhere. Plenty of girls in bikinis or with a towel wrapped around their waist. Or a T-shirt covering their swimsuits, the fabric damp and clingy, their hair hanging around their faces. They’re all pretty, with sun-burnished cheeks and big smiles, the scent of suntan oil or sunscreen clinging to their skin. I smile at more than a few of them and they smile in return, though not one of them tries to talk to me.

And I don’t talk to them either. I don’t feel like it.

This…is alarming. Am I losing my mojo? Maybe I don’t have what it takes any longer. I’ve burned out, which is a shitty feeling. I can’t burn out. Not now. I’m only halfway through college. I need to keep up the same level of good-time party guy for the next two years. I need to live it up during this time of my life, because I’m never going to get it back.

Frustration growing, I toss the remainder of my ice cream cone into the trash before I head back to the dock and throw myself back into work.

“Take a rest,” TJ tells us when the boat parade is about to start. “Relax. The hardest part is done.”

Aidan and I share a bench that sits directly in front of the office and faces the water, both of us swigging down water, though I secretly wish for a beer. Alcohol might ease the tension between my shoulders.

Actually, I know exactly what would ease the tension between my shoulders and radiating down my back. Sex. I haven’t been ins

ide a woman in a while. A few weeks—

Frowning, I calculate exactly how long it’s been, and I can’t quite remember. At least a month. An entire freakin’ month. That’s some sort of record for me.

“I seriously need to get laid,” I say out loud.

“You’ve already mentioned that,” Aidan says with a chuckle. “Didn’t see any fine ass babes up in the restaurant earlier?”

“Nah. They all look too—young.” I make a face.

“What’s wrong with young?” Aidan raises his brows.

“You’re only nineteen. It’s no big deal.”

“And you’re only twenty,” he reminds me.

“Almost twenty-one,” I tack on, needing the reminder.

“Big deal.”